Story of Our Lives
by Luv2Live Live2Luv
Summary: D broke M's heart, causing her reign as A-List queen to crash and burn. A is spending more and more time with J. D just might have an eating disorder. K ditched the PC to tour internationally with the Soccer Sisters. C&C remain terrified virgins. I'm going to be the first to know all about this, and you'll be the second. It's nawt like I'm good at keeping secrets. XOXO, Gossip Girl
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: KRISTEN AND CLAIRE ARE RICH IN THIS STORY!  
**

* * *

I think I spend half the year just waiting for New Year's to roll around. Am I the only one who ditches her resolutions two weeks after making them, or gets sick of kissing the same guy after a few months? I think nawt.

And if you are one of those people, New Year's is your time to shine. Think about it: you can make a brand-new list of goals that you're never going to achieve in your lifetime. Just kidding. The real excitement is ditching your boyfriend at Merri-Lee Marvil's internationally recognized New Year's Yves blowout for the hawt new transfer student from Sweden. All you have to do is get him alone in the corner at that fateful moment when 2012 becomes 2013 and you're set. As long as they have the same traditions in Europe as they do here.

In case you've been tanning in a tropical paradise all year long, **M**, **A**, **D**, **K**, and their on-again, off-again BFF **C** are the girls who play as hard as they shop, and now that they've torn up every last designer store in the tri-state area, it's time to get down to some serious business. You've heard of them, but you don't have to admit you wish you were part of that select group everyone calls the Pretty Commitee; they already know.

And now that we're out of school for two more weeks, we better take advantage of the little time we have left before we have to slip back into the monotony of tests and homework and early-morning alarms.

**SIGHTINGS**

**M** entering Radio City hand-in-hand with **D**. You think they're actually planning on watching the special, or are they more interested in smooching the night away? **A** bidding her parents farewell at JFK as they fly off to the Bahamas for their anniversary, then sneaking off to meet **J** at the mansion she has to herself for an entire month. **D** slipping into the bathroom at the luxurious Wild Fusion after clearing her entire plate. **K** practicing with the Soccer Sisters day in and day out. And you can't forget **C**, who might nawt be as innocent as she seems.

You know you love me,  
_G_ossip_ G_irl

* * *

Alicia Rivera watched as her parents' plane disappeared into the night sky. Without shedding a single tear at their departure, she pulled out her shiny new iPhone 5 and dialed Josh Hotz's number.

"Hey, babe." His sexy, lightly accented voice sent shivers down her spine.

"Hey," she replied, trying to make her voice sound sultry, but at the same time light and feminine. "I missed you."

"Me too."

She could just picture her boyfriend on the other end of the line. With shaggy brown hair and warm chocolate-colored eyes, he was all she'd ever wished for in a man. "Meet you at my place in two hours?"

"Perfect," he answered. "See you soon."

"Bye." She slid the phone into her burgundy Hermes pocketbook and headed toward the exit. After shooting a few flirtatious smiles at cute attendants, she left the airport through a sliding glass door and beelined toward the sleek silver Lamborghini that had been her Sweet Sixteen present. After lovingly patting the car's hood, she climbed into the driver's seat, locked the door behind her, and eased the car into gear. Then she exited the main terminal parking lot.

An hour-and-a-half later, Alicia arrived at the Rivera mansion. She pulled her keychain out of her purse and inserted it into the lock. After a quick twist, the door swung open, and she entered her home.

Quickly, she ran up to her room and stripped out of her True Religion dark wash jeans, flat strappy Prada sandals, and beaded Chanel tank top. Then she threw on her favorite Victoria's Secret tanga and matching bra. She twisted her hair into a messy-on-purpose bun, reglossed with Lust by MAC, Josh's favorite, and checked her arms and legs to ensure that not a strand of ugly, dark hair was poking out. Pleased, she flopped into bed, waiting for the doorbell to ring.

* * *

Meanwhile, Massie Block was soaking in a La Mer bubble math. She had to look absolutely perfect for Derrick, because she knew this was the night he'd want to go all the way. After ten more minutes of scrubbing every part of her body with her loofah, she shut off the water and stepped daintily out of the tub.

She slipped into the fuzziest bathrobe she owned: a white cashmere Ralph Lauren number, and sat on the floor to do her nails. Normally, she'd ask her personal stylist, Jakkob, to give her a pedicure, but what she wanted right now was perfection. And the only person she trusted to be perfect was herself.

Although she would never admit it, Massie Block was afraid. Attending Sex Ed classes for the past two years had put a damper on the actual event. Now that she thought about it, so many things could go wrong. She could get HIV, or AIDS, or some other terrible disease. Or she might even- gulp -get pregnant. And having a child in her senior year of high school was nawt how she envisioned her life, because she was so wild and free. Maybe if she was planning on staying with Derrick until college, and eventually marrying him, things would be different. But even though most people at her exclusive private school, Octavian Country Day, called her best friend Alicia a slut, Massie was the real whore. She only stayed with a guy long enough to get his hopes up, then moved onto the next one. She'd never even come close to sex.

The problem was, Derrick was the only boy she'd really fallen for. It had been love at first sight when she saw him, in all his wavy-haired, hazel eyes, shorts-wearing glory. And she wanted to be sure he felt the same way for her. Which was why she'd agreed that they should have sex.

* * *

Dylan Marvil smiled across the table at her boyfriend, Chris Plovert. With an identical expression, he leaned toward her. Dylan closed her eyes, thinking he was going in for a kiss, but instead a slimy fork hit her lips.

"Eww!" she whisper-shrieked, skidding her chair back across the marble floor.

"It's smoked salmon," he explained. "You don't like it?"

"Not particularly," she confirmed. Luxury cuisine had never been her thing. Most nights Dylan could be found chowing down on a PB&J in her room, watching Spanish telenovellas.

"Oh." He brought the fork to his own mouth, took a bite, and dropped it to his plate with a clatter. "You know what? I think we should go somewhere alone, just the two of us."

Dylan looked at him, then at her empty plate. She rubbed her stomach discreetly, then stood up. "Let me just go to the bathroom."

* * *

"Pass!" Kristen Gregory shouted, waving her arms wildly.

Her best soccer friend, Belle, skirted the group of girls who were playing defense and tapped the ball toward Kristen, who slammed it into the net.

"Goal!" the imaginary fans yelled.

"Take five!" the coach hollered.

Immediately, the girls bolted toward the benches, picking up water bottles and small Ziplocks full of snacks.

"Hey," Belle said, dropping down next to Kristen.

"Hi," she replied gloomily.

"What's wrong?"

"I was just thinking this kind of sucks," she answered. "This is the day we're supposed to be hanging out with best friends, or boyfriends, and here we are, spending five hours of our afternoon kicking a black-and-white ball at each other."

"Eat, breathe, sleep soccer," Belle recited, quoting one of Coach Kumrow's favorite lines.

"That's the problem," she admitted. "I don't think I'm that into it anymore."

* * *

Claire Lyons cuddled her head into Cam Fisher's chest. There was something solid but at the same time so comfortable about just being here with him. She reached for the remote and turned off the TV. "I love you," she whispered.

"I love you too." He pulled her face up to his and leaned down for a passionate kiss.

After a minute, Claire broke it. "Are we still on for Merri-Lee's party tonight?"

"Of course," he murmured back. "Now stay in the moment with me, will you?"

Mentally, Claire slapped herself. What was with her pathological inability to enjoy the present, instead of always thinking ahead to the future, or going back to the past? Closing her eyes, she scooted even closer to her boyfriend. She brushed a strand of soft, dark hair out of his green eye and put her lips on his.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank Gawd Bloomingdale's keeps it doors open for an entire 24 hours in honor of this special occasion. Otherwise, I wouldn't have been able to go to Merri-Lee's party. Let me explain: I went shopping last Saturday for the perfect outfit for the New Year's Yves blowout, and I found it: a sea-green raw silk Prada number with a sweetheart neckline and absolutely ah-mazing Jimmy Choos to go along with it. But I got home, tried it on, and a seam tore out. I was all set for a major teen-girl tantrum, but my driver very kindly pointed out that Bloomingdale's was open. So we high-tailed it to Main Street, where I bought a $4,300 Versace cocktail dress, which is just going to have to cut it.

Also, I owe LaGuardia airport a serious thank you. What else can get me from NYC to St. Barts straight back to my private headquarters in just a matter of hours?

Anyway, I'm back from my day-long redezvous with my favorite childhood beach house (and my best friends in the whole world), and ready to serve your gossip needs. I'm sure you're all wondering what happened when the clock struck midnight. But first...

**SIGHTINGS**

**M** and **D** entering Merri-Lee's party, waving those precious black tickets as though they were nothing more than tissues, **A** and **J** right beside them. **D** and **C **taking their time, while **K** can be found at Heaven with a brand-new guy, who we'll call **D**. **C** and** C** skipping out on their so-called friends so they could share a Delicious Nutritious smoothie at the Vanilla Bean, then take a drive in Cam's sweet forest-green Porsche convertible. Last I saw them, they were speeding off into the sunset. Literally. Notice anything suspicious here? I do.

But then again, you're nawt an insider like me.

You know you love me,  
_G_ossip _G_irl

* * *

It was five minutes to midnight, and Dylan Marvil was sick and tired of being sick and tired. She knew it was because of what she was doing to herself, but she just couldn't seem to stawp.

Right now, she was lying on Chris's bed in nothing but a pink silk Hanro cami. He was next to her, stripping down to his boxers. She rolled over to face him.

"I'm done," she said with a quick glance at her thighs, which were appearing to bulge out from under the lacy hem of her tank top.

"What?" He gazed into her eyes in a way that was supposed to be meaningful.

"You didn't do anything wrong," she assured her boyfriend. "I'm... I'm just nawt ready."

"But we've done this before," he replied, petting her back.

"It doesn't matter." Dylan got up and yanked her Juicy Couture miniskirt over her legs. Now that she was covering what she considered to be the least attractive part of her body (other than her stomach, of course), she was much more comfortable. She crept back into bed and kissed Chris lightly on the top of his head. "Can we just snuggle for a little while?"

Anyone could tell that he was deeply disappointed, but soon, a peck on the lips had turned into a full-on makeout session, which quickly became much more. But Dylan tactfully avoided sex.

* * *

While her friend was doing everything she could to slow Chris down, Massie made a conscious effort to speed things up. Derrick, being the loving, caring guy he was, had asked her more than once if she was ready, and every time she'd responded breathlessly, "Yes, yes, of course." But now she was petrified.

As he caressed her tan cheek, she closed her eyes and thought about Alicia's accounts of sex. And suddenly it seemed vulgar, repulsive, almost, that she'd even _considered_ doing something that animals did during mating season on the Discovery Channel. But it wasn't like she could just back down. Then a thought struck her: she was the Alpha! She could do anything she wanted.

With renewed strength, she sat up, Derrick's hand slipping off her smooth face, and said softly quietly, "No."

Derrick glanced at her with a small smile. "I thought you were the great Massie Block," he replied. "Can't you do anything?"

"No," she whispered. "I can only try."

* * *

Alicia was leaning against Josh outside the party, looking like a total LBR who hadn't been invited. So she made a habit of waving the black paper around whenever someone walked by. She'd promised her Alpha she wouldn't dream of entering the vast room without her, and she was regretting it.

"Why are we standing here again?" he asked, his voice muffled.

"Cuz... You know what, I have no fucking clue!" she announced. "It's Massie's fault she's late!" With that, she grabbed her boyfriend's hand and dragged him inside. As she was downing her second champagne flute, a chime sounded from her iPhone.

**MASSIEKUR: Sry we're late. Isaac will pull up in 5. R u still outside?  
HOLAGURRL: Of course.  
MASSIEKUR: Thx, girlie. :) C u soon!**

"Come on!" Alicia hissed. "Josh!"

He was talking to some Swedish model, and from the looks of the conversation, he didn't seem to want to give it up. So she reached up and rubbed his shoulders, a small motion which always turned him on instantly.

"Do you need something, sweetheart?" he asked.

"We need to go outside. Now."

"S'party already over?" he slurred.

"In ten minutes we can come back in, k?" she pleaded. Then, after shooting an apologetic smile at the blonde-haired girl, who was staring after them in shock, she pulled Josh outside just as Massie's limo arrived. "Don't look drunk," she ordered.

"Yes, ma'am." Josh gave her a faux salute.

"Ugh." Alicia always wanted to hide her boyfriend behind her when he was like this.

"Hey!" Massie greeted her with a smile. She was about to become the life of the party, second only to Merri-Lee herself, and she knew it. In a stunning Ralph Lauren dress with black netting over her boobs, a cream-colored sash, and charcoal ruffles floating over her knees, she looked absolutely invincible.

So Massie and Derrick strolled in arm-in-arm, while Alicia and Josh ducked in behind them, waltzing back over to their half-empty glasses.

* * *

Kristen was downing her first shot in years at Heaven, which had used to be her favorite club. She had first discovered the place when she was 13, Alicia by her side. She'd had her first real drink at 15. Then, for the past 42 months, she'd been banned from alcohol. But it didn't matter. Kristen had officially given up on the Soccer Sisters, or so she thought.

"You wanna come back to my place?" offered a guy who was sitting at the bar.

Kristen looked up, and up and up, into his gorgeous electric blue eyes. His short dirty blonde hair and pale skin suggested a guy who liked reading more than athletics. "No _way_," she replied. But she had to think for a second before the response came to her.

"Are you sure?" he tempted. "It's New Year's Eve."

She plopped onto the stool next to him, struggling to make herself heard over the roaring crowd. "How about we get to know each other first?" she shout-suggested.

"I'm 19, my name is Dempsey Solomon, you know me from my loser days at Octavian Country Day, and I think I'm in love with you," is what Kristen Gregory heard right before she passed out.

* * *

"Don't we need to go to the party?" asked Cam.

"They're not missing us," Claire answered.

"Are you sure?"

She nodded, then reached down for a sip of the smoothie sitting in front of them. "Let's go for a ride," she said suddenly.

"Alright." Cam paid for their drink and they left Vanilla Bean.

Hours later, they were still at it, about to cross the New York border. It seemed as though they were heading for a crummy old motel on the outskirts of nowhere, but I can't swear to that, so let's just keep it between us.


	3. Chapter 3

**QUICK WARNING: YES, THERE'S SEX, BUT I'M GOING TO KEEP THE RATING ON T BECAUSE THERE IS ABSOLUTELY NOTHING GRAPHIC. I DO NOT DESCRIBE ANYTHING THAT YOU DO NOT WANT TO HEAR. IF YOU DON'T WANT TO READ IT, I WON'T PUT ANYTHING TOO IMPORTANT IN. THIS IS MOSTLY TO DESCRIBE EACH COUPLE'S SITUATION. SO READ THE GOSSIP GIRL BLOG, AND PM ME IF YOU'RE NOT INTERESTED IN THE REST SO I CAN TELL YOU WHAT HAPPENS, K?**

* * *

Is it true that celebrities are so much more interesting than real people? I mean, they're just normal human beings, maybe with an uncanny ability to sing, dance, act, whatever, but on the inside, we're all the same. Nawt only that, we have our own personal celebrites right here in Westchester. **M**, **A**, **D**, **K**, and don't forget the goody-goodys' favorite girl, **C** are hawt, smart, and loaded. What more could anyone ask for? And Gawd knows they have enough drama in their lives to fill up any tabloid.

A word to the wise: don't bother studying for midterms. If you know everything already, you'll do fine, and if you don't, it's too late to learn it. So party all day, every day, to your heart's content, because soon you'll be a responsible adult, with a car, a job, and a family. But first you have to survive college. Good luck!

**SIGHTINGS**

**M **and **D **spotted storming off in opposite directions. Lovers' spat, or something more? **A **admiring a brand new ring, which just happens to be encircling the fourth finger on her left hand. Is that what I think it is? **D **trying a new diet, like 17 others before that haven't failed. Am I the only one who thinks she should give up and get more exercise instead? **K **in the passenger seat of a strange car, seeming oddly intimate with the driver. **C **and **C **naked on his couch. Are they finally going to attempt the greatest milestone of their teenage lives?

You know you love me,  
_G_ossip _G_irl

* * *

"Ehmagawd, I missed you," Massie said, her voice hoarse and her chest rising and falling rapidly with emotion.

"I only went to put on a condom," Derrick whispered back, cuddling his girlfriend. "You must really love me."

"I do," she assured him.

"Now, are you sure you're not going to back out this time?" he asked. "Because I don't think I can stand that again."

"Of course nawt." She rested her soft hands on his chest, leaning in for a deep, passionate kiss.

Carefully, he pulled down her panties. Gripping the edge of the matress tightly, he slid himself into her.

* * *

With that quirky smile she loved so much, Josh lowered himself to his knees and withdrew a square box from his pocket. "Alicia Rivera, will you marry me?"

She threw her arms around him, resting her chin on his shoulder. "Of course," she whispered. "Now get back in bed."

* * *

Dylan scrolled through various websites on dieting. She found almost 20 that she'd already tried, and about another 50 that she just knew couldn't possibly work for her. Finally, she found the tried-and-true diet that had worked for Massie Block years and years ago. _South Beach_.

She clicked on the link and read through the reviews and comments. Then she set a new goal for herself. Who says resolutions are only for New Year's?

* * *

When Kristen woke up, she found herself in the backseat of a car, traveling into the pitch-black night. "What's going on?" she stuttered, her voice hoarse from the alcohol.

"You fainted," someone told her from up front.

"Stawp the car!" she ordered. When the driver obliged, she climbed over the glove compartment and settled into the seat next to him. "Dempsey?"

"The one and only." He smirked and turned the radio down. "I couldn't just leave you there, so I'm taking you to my house."

"Are you sure you don't want... something else?"

"Not yet," he replied, reaching for her hand. "But maybe soon."

* * *

"Come on, Cam," Claire urged as he rummaged through a pack of condoms.

"Here!" he exclaimed, holding one up in triumph. He admired his naked girlfriend before rolling the device on and positoning himself on top of her.

"Cam," she whispered, wrapping her legs around his torso, pulling him closer to her. "I'm ready."

"So am I."

Knowing that couple, they'll want some privacy right about now.


	4. Chapter 4 - Massie

**A/N: I AM GOING TO HAVE A CHAPTER FOR EACH GIRL: MASSIE, ALICIA, DYLAN, KRISTEN, AND KUH-LAIRE, IN ORDER, UNTIL THE STORY'S DONE. SO NO MORE GG BLAWGS, JUST THE STORY, K?**

* * *

**MASSIE**

In a royal blue high-waisted Dolce&Gabbana dress with white Tory Burch flats, Massie Block looked as though she could rule the world. But could she?

Sex with Derrick had taken a lot out of her. She knew it what it was like to love someone now, really love them. And loving someone was nawt something she was good at. She wasn't even sure if she knew _how_ to love someone. And now she felt totally vulnerable.

Timidly, she knocked on Alicia's door. Josh flung it open. Massie's eyes widened. In all the years of going over to her friend's house in the early morning, her boyfriend had never once been there. Especially with no shirt on.

"Um, hey, Josh?" she greeted him quizically, trying nawt to admire his six-pack.

"Hi," he replied, blocking the doorway. "Listen, I'm not sure if right now is the best time."

"But I _have_ to talk to Leesh!" she begged.

"Can you come back in an hour?" he asked. "I-I just asked her to marry me. We were having private time."

She gasped. "Of course, of course!" she agreed, already backing down the pathway. "See you later!"

Hurriedly, she rushed down the sidewalk and jumped into her car. Her best friend was getting _married_? How had this come about? Had she really been so interested in Derrick Harrington that she'd completely forsaken Alicia? She'd been so caught up in her own shallow world of switching boys and buying clothes and Gawd-knows-what-else that she and Alicia had ahbviously been drifting apart. A few years ago, Massie would have received a text or a breathless phone call that she was engaged. Now, now she wasn't even on the list. Yeah, her friend would probably invite her to the exclusive wedding that would most likely take place in the Hotel Bel-Air, or somewhere exotic like Paris, or maybe Spain, since they were both born there, but it would be nothing more than a friendly courtesy.

Because she knew the truth. Everything in her life was falling apart, and it, for once, it was all her fault.


	5. Chapter 5 - Alicia

**ALICIA**

"I'm getting _married_!" she sang out at the dinner table.

"What?" Len Rivera stood up authoritatively, banging a hand down on his gold plate, which promptly slid to the floor and shattered. "You're _what_?!"

"Getting _married_," she explained, as though she hadn't even considered that there might be an argument. "_Casado_." Maybe Spanish would help her father understand.

"Who- married- are you sure?" Ally breathed, sliding down in her seat.

"No, I imagined it," she replied sarcastically.

"You're in high school!" Len exploded. "Over my dead body are you getting married!"

Alicia turned pleading eyes on her mother.

"I'm sure they're not having a ceremony in two weeks," she pointed out. "Will you wait until you've graduated?"

Alicia nodded.

"Then you're fine. Len-"

"No!" he roared.

"Len!" Ally grabbed his arm and pulled him upstairs toward their bedroom. "Let's have a little talk."

Alicia sat alone now. As soon as she heard her parents' door close, she crept upstairs and dialed Josh. "Did you tell them?"

"Yes," he answered. "You?"

"Yeah," she replied. "Didn't go that well."

"Me neither. Too young, no education, shit like that."

She sighed. "My mom said we had to wait until we graduated."

"Yeah, that's pretty much where I got to. See you tomorrow?"

"Um-hmm." She snapped the phone shut, dropped it on her night table, and curled into bed. Now she had to time to think about what had been bothering her all day: Massie. They'd been such good friends for so long, but everything had drifted apart. She missed having the brunette to confide in. Slowly, she dialed her number. "Mass?"

"Leesh? Hold on." There was some shuffling, and then a, "'Kay, hello?"

"Mass, listen, I'm... engaged." She smiled in spite of herself.

"I know. I rang your doorbell earlier, and Josh told me."

"Isn't it great?" Then she took a leap of faith and decided to trust her old friend. "You wanna help plan the wedding?"

"Ehmagawd, I'd love to!" she exclaimed. "Can I come over?"

"Now?"

"Can I?"

"Sure." Alicia thought back with excrutiating fondness to the times where she'd go over to Massie's house on a dime, and they'd spend hours together, giving each other mani-pedis or just talking. "Can't wait."

Then something happened that hadn't in many years. The thought of Massie Block made her smile.


	6. Chapter 6 - Dylan

**DYLAN**

Dylan glowered as she marched into OCD. She missed the good old days, where a single compliment from Massie could cheer her up instantly, where Kristen's laugh would make the rest of them crack up, where she could steal gummy worms from Claire. She even missed Alicia's fat jokes.

But now Massie was wrapped around Derrick Harrington's finger, Kristen was obsessed with soccer, and Claire was trying to figure out how to have sex with Cam without calling it a sin. Even Alicia had become Slutlicia, and if the rumors were true, Slutlicia was getting married.

Ehmagawd, how sick was this? She had to find out about the girls who were supposedly her best friends through _rumors_?

Angrily, Dylan twisted her lock, scooped a purple binder into her arms, and disappeared into a classroom, where she spent the next half-hour clenching her fist as she resolved to get to know her friends again.

Apparently, luck was on her side. The first person she saw when she entered the hallway was Massie.

"Mass!" she hollered, waving.

"Dyl?" Massie crossed over to the other side of the hallway. The majority of the student body parted to let her through.

"No, pickle." It was an old, lame joke they used to have, but it still coaxed a laugh out of the brunette.

"Guess what?" Massie exclaimed. "Leesh is getting married!"

"No kidding? Did she tell you?"

"Better than that; I'm helping plan it."

Dylan pouted. "What about me?"

"The whole Pretty Commitee's in! We figured it would be a good time to bond."

"When do we start?"

"This afternoon. We're going to be more glamorous than Princess Kate."

Dylan smiled and took off, calling, "Meet you at Alicia's?"

"Yup!"

Then she found, speak of the devil, the one and only Alicia Rivera. "Leesh?"

Alicia jumped slightly, but when she saw it was Dylan, she stuck out her hand and shoved her ring in the redhead's face. "Looklooklooklooklook!"

"I see," Dylan grumbled. Gawd, was she a show-off.

Stepping around her, she saw Kristen and Claire, who were chattering as though they were BFFLs for life, not best frenemies. "Guys!" She wrapped her arms around them.

"Did you hear? We're planning a wedding!" Claire's electric blue eyes lit up.

"Hell, yeah. It's gonna be more glamorous than Princess Kate's."

"Nawt possible," Kristen said instantly.

"I know." Dylan grinned.

These might as well have been her first impressions of the Pretty Commitee. And who knew? Maybe if they stawped fucking their relationship up, Dylan wouldn't be a bulimic. But it didn't matter. She was already in the bathroom.


	7. Chapter 7 - Everyone

**EVERYONE**

Kristen had everything. Looks, grades, athletics, money. And she was never mean. So she hated to do what she knew she had to.

"Leesh?" she murmured.

"Yeah?"

"I can't help with your wedding." She expected her friend's face to fall.

"May I ask _why_?" Alicia snapped.

"I'm going on tour with the Soccer Sisters," she explained hotly. "It doesn't look like you want me, anyway."

"You can drop out; I don't care." Alicia rolled her eyes. "I have the rest of the GLUs to help me. And it doesn't look like you even want to be one. Right, Massie?"

She looked up from her manicure and bit her lip. "If she has to go, she has to go. We should respect that." Normally, her word was law, but today, Alicia was in a nasty mood, and seemed ready to fight to the death.

"That's bullshit. Who came up with the rule that if you miss a Friday night sleepover, you lose 30 Gossip Points? And if you miss three, you lose Pretty Commitee status?!"

"I was young then," she replied.

"We're still young," Claire said softly. "And look at us: we might be in different positions, Massie going out with Derrick, Alicia getting married, Dylan being-" She clamped her mouth shut as Dylan shot her a murderous look warning her not to spill the secret. "Kristen going away on international tour, and me losing my virginity with Cam." She hoped that would distract them from the unifinished Dylan sentence. "But we insist on tearing apart our friendship. That's what destroyed us in middle school, and we never put the pieces back together, not really."

Dylan nodded. "She's right. If Kristen needs to leave, let her. It's nawt like she'll never come back."

"You lost your virginity?" Massie screeched, rushing to engulf her friend in a hug. "Oh, honey, I'm-"

"Nawt my mother." Then she allowed herself to smile. "But thank you." She looked around at the Pretty Commitee with loving eyes. "Please let's stay together. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Done." Massie held up hands in a heart position.

"Done." Alicia made an attempt to smile and added her heart.

"Done." Dylan joined her heart with theirs.

"Done." Kristen hugged Claire and made a heart.

"And done." Claire grinned widely and used a trick she'd learned at summer camp. With her fingers, she made five little entwined stars.


	8. Chapter 8 - Kristen

**KRISTEN**

With a sigh, Kristen hopped onto the bus that would carry her far, far away from Westchester, all the way to Lake Placid, in fact, where the Pretty Commitee had gotten expelled from OCD.

"Over here, Kris!" Belle patted the seat next to her.

With a small smile, she sat down and dropped her giant Jansport suitcase on the floor beneath her feet. "I already miss them," she commented.

"The Pretty Commitee? Yeah, I miss my friends too."

She twisted around to look through the back window as the vehicle pulled away. "I'm really leaving," she muttered.

"No going back," Belle teased.

"I feel like this is the wrong desicion," she remarked. "I'm nawt sure my priorities are straight."

"You make your choices, and you live with them. That's it."

"I guess."


	9. Chapter 9 - Claire

**CLAIRE**

Claire sighed with happiness as she admired Cam's sleeping form. She was already planning their future: two kids: Jacob and Miley. She'd be an actress; him, something important, such as a policeman. They'd grow old together, attend their childrens' graduations together, enjoy their 50th anniversary together. And it all just might start with a broken condom.

She closed her fingers around his wrist and kissed him lightly on the mouth. He kissed her back. She turned it deeper and deeper, until eventually the boy opened his eyes, wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her on top of him.

Claire looked into his eyes and knew she'd found love. Everything he did told her that was true, and she wouldn't ever do anything to ruin it.

Suddenly, his phone rang. "Hello?... Hey... Yeah, I'm with Claire... See you later, sweetheart."

She felt her face burn. _Sweetheart_? "Who was that?" she asked, careful to keep her voice under control. Was their entire relationship going down the drain? In a flash, she understood how hard life with Derrick must be for Massie. He was such a player, a cheater... Came would never do that. She was sure of it. Was she?

"My cousin," he replied easily, creeping his hand up her shirt.

Her anger melted, but her suspicion remained. But she put it behind her. It didn't matter. And unless he did something to show that life was nawt what it seemed to be, it would never matter.


	10. Chapter 10 - Massie

**MASSIE**

"You really wouldn't marry Derrick Harrington?"

"No!" she exclaimed. "It's nawt like he's my soul mate. We're nawt even really in love."

"I'm kidding," Olivia Ryan scoffed. "Like you'd tie yourself down like that."

"Exactly." She'd spun on her heel and took off down the hall, her Blahniks click-clacking. She never saw Olivia press a button on her phone and tuck it into her pocket with an evil smile on her face.

Two hours later, she found herself in the worst fight she'd ever been in, and that included the horrible battles that had torn the Pretty Commitee apart.

"You don't love me?" Derrick fluttered his eyes in disbelief.

"I-I-what?"

"Olivia Ryan sent the recording to me." He dug his cheap Motorola out of his pocket and pressed play.

Massie's voice rang out through the parking lot. More than a few students stopped and stared at them. "I- you know she wants you! She-she Photoshopped it or something!" she protested desperately.

"No I didn't." Olivia slipped smoothly out from behind Derrick's flashy new Ferrari. "And you know it." She wrapped herself around Massie's boyfriend and kissed him. And he kissed her back.

She knew she should leave, but she couldn't make herself move.

"At least I know _she_ loves me." Derrick shrugged, slinging a casual arm around Olivia's shoulders. "And guess what?"

"What?" Her eyes were blazing, and she knew her cheeks matched, but she couldn't care less.

"Face it, Block, without me, you're nothing. You'll go down faster than Olivia Ryan will shoot up." And they walked away, hand in hand. In front of the entire student body.

Massie Block was going down.


	11. Chapter 11 - Alicia

**ALICIA**

The next day, all the girls, minus Kristen, had grouped together to work on the wedding project.

"Mass?"

"Flowers. Yup." She held up a picture of a pale yellow roses mixed in with some celery-green leaves. "You like?"

"They're perfect. Dyl?"

"I didn't find any dresses for us, but I had an idea. What if you were in white, ahbviously, and we were in, like, rainbow colors? And the best men could be Derrington, Plovert, Kemp, and Cam? And their ties could match their girlfriends' dresses when they were walking down the aisle?"

"That _is _good. Except who would Kemp walk with?"

"Kristen. She called."

"What'd she say?" Alicia demanded.

"That she'd definitely be there for the wedding, wherever and whenever."

"Thank Gawd." Alicia tilted her head back and let a grin wash over her face. "Okay, Kuh-laire?"

"I hired a caterer."

"Who?"

"Battaglia. That guy who used to work in the city, you know?"

"How did you get him?" Dylan asked. "He, like, won't even work for the President."

"I have my ways."

"You guys are the best!" Alicia engulfed them all in a huge group hug. "Thank you so much!"


	12. Chapter 12 - Kristen

**KRISTEN**

Every day, Kristen trained nothing but soccer. And every night, she fell into bed like a dead weight. But when darkness fell the evening before the ceremony, no one could fall asleep.

"I wonder who got picked," Belle voiced.

"How many can they take?" another girl wanted to know.

"12," Kristen told her. A fresh wave of worry washed over her. There were hundreds of Soccer Sisters from all over the country in the camp. And only 12 would be picked for the Junior Olympic team.

She must have dozed off at some point, because when she opened her eyes, the sun was shining and the birds were chirping. The sky was a brilliant blue with only a few wispy clouds, and a nice breeze was blowing through the window.

"Rise and shine!" their counselor coomanded.

Kristen stretched and put on gray shorts and a lime green three-finger tank. She slipped on flip-flops and followed her group up to the cafeteria, where she shoved a quick breakfast down her throat and raced outside to join the crowd that had already gathered in front of the makeshift podium that had been set up on one of the main fields.

"Without hesitation or ado," the director opened. "I would like to announce this year's Junior Olympic soccer team."

Kristen knew she shouldn't get her hopes up. She was one of the youngest girls there, and the Junior Olympic team was normally made up of girls who had been going to the Soccer Sisters camp for years and years. But she hoped anyway. She crossed her fingers on both hands and hoped.

"Gia Thompson, Vanessa Wynter, Jayden Pomp, Callie Fretzon, Dina Stern, Mikayla Smythe, Hailey Anderson, Stephanie Astor, London Derwin, Lucy Francesco, and Mina Brick. And your captain is..."

'It's nawt me,' Kristen realized through a haze of disappointment. 'I didn't get chosen.'

"Kristen Gregory!"

"What?" she mumbled aloud.

Three hands shoved her from behind. "Go! You're captain!"

She ran up to the stage and accepted a handshake, a pile of jerseys, and an index card from the director. She looked up with a bemused expression.

"It has the alternates on it," she explained. "Read them off."

"Oh. And our alternates are," she stepped up, "Nellie Waters, Chelsea Griffen, Kayla Meyer, Kyla Mink, Diana Whiteman, Marie Stewart, and Belle White." _Belle White._

She was going to be on the Junior Olympic soccer team with her best friend, Belle White.


	13. Chapter 13 - Dylan

**DYLAN**

*FLASHBACK*

"Fat!"

"Ugly!"

"Disgusting!"

"Gross!"

"Ehmagawd, eww!"

"Is she _really_ eating that?"

"Don't say that; she's going to become anorexic."

*FLASHBACK END*

Whoever had said that last line had been close. Dylan hadn't become anorexic; she'd become bulimic.

She threw up all her food, and ate more, and threw up again. To Dylan, it was an easy way to be able to eat as much as she liked, yet still not become any fatter than she was. She had lost 30 pounds already, which brought her from a Size 6 to a 4.

She smiled at the empty plate of chocolate cake before her. "Hey, guys, I'm going to the bathroom."

The Pretty Commitee waved her off, so she got up and power-walked to the restroom. The longer the food sat in her stomach, the more fat would accumulate before she could get it out. When she got there, she pulled the door to the huge, tiled room open, closed it, locked it, and positioned herself in front of the toilet. Three, she stuck out two fingers, two, she lifted them up to her mouth, one, she stuck them down her throat...

"Dylan?" Two knocks accompanied the question.

She bolted to her feet. "Yeah?"

"It's Alicia's mom. Are you okay? You've been in there awhile?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Stomachache," she lied.

"Oh, okay." She heard Ally's footsteps recede down the corridor, and leaned back over, her heart pounding. She knew she needed to wait. She knew it wasn't safe to throw up all her food, especially when her heart was racing. But a few more seconds could make all the difference between a Size 4 and a 3. She jabbed two fingers into her throat and watched the bile rise up. Then her head spun, her ears rang, and she fell back. The last thing she heard was her head cracking against the floor.

_Beep. Beep. Beep._


	14. Chapter 14 - Everyone

**EVERYONE**

"Dylan's been gone a long time," Claire worried. "You think something's wrong?"

"Nah." Kristen shrugged. "She probably has a stomach-ache from that stupid South Beach Diet she's trying." She glared at Alicia.

"What?"

"You're the one who convinced her she was fat," Kristen scowled.

Alicia at least had the grace to look slightly embarassed.

"I'm gonna go check on her," Massie announced, getting to her feet. "You can come with. Or nawt." Trailed by Claire, she made her way to the bathroom. She knocked on the door. "Dyl?" No answer. "Dyl?" No answer. "_Dyl?_" Nothing. She tried to open the door, but it was locked. "Kris!" she hollered.

"What?" The blonde showed up next to them.

"I need you to force the door."

"What?"

"You heard me."

Kristen sighed, took a deep breath, turned sideways, and rammed it with her shoulder. Although the door was pretty, the wood was nawt made to withstand this kind of pressure. It fell in, and Massie turned the knob, keeping her eyes covered just in case her friend was taking an exceptionally long poop.

"Um, Mass?" Claire's panicky voice made her fling her hands away and look up.

"Ehmagawd." There was Dylan. She was on her back, lying in a pool of vomit and blood, unconcious.

* * *

*MASSIE'S POV*

I scream, a gurgly sort of thing that burns my throat. Then I begin hyperventilating. "Ehmagawd, Dyl?" I choke out. I feel my friends' hands on my shoulders, but I don't acknowledge them. "Dylan?"

"We need to call 911," Claire says authoratatively, already whipping out her phone.

"Wait!" I slam my hand over the device. "They're going to want to know what happened. What do we tell them?"

"That we don't know?" Claire suggests, beginning to dial.

"How 'bout we tell them that she's bulimic?" Kristen proposes.

"Huh?" I'm down on my knees, stroking Dylan's bright red hair off her sweaty forehead. "No she's nawt. She's sick."

Kristen wordlessly points to the toilet bowl, which is overflowing with an acidic substance that may or may nawt be puke. "Bulimic."

"No way. Dylan?"

"It makes sense," Claire points out. "Even the best diet couldn't make her lose this many pounds in one month. She's nawt even thin. She's, like, _diminished_."

I start crying again. "You're all wrong," I manage, but Claire flaps her hand around in my face to get me to shut up.

"Yes, we need an ambulance for my friend, Dylan Marvil... Yes, _the_ Dylan Marvil..." She rolls her eyes. "It's possible she's bulimic... This can _nawt _get out to the press... At, uh..." She presses her hand over the speaker. "Where are we, guys? What's Leesh's address?"

"1886 Lakeland Boulevard," I tell her.

"1886 Lakeland Boulevard," Claire repeats into the phone. "Uh-huh... Yes, passed out on the floor... Yes... Thank you." With a small smile, she pulls the device away from her ear and slides it into her back pocket. "They'll be here in five," she informs us.

* * *

*ALICIA'S POV*

And they said _Dylan _was taking a long time. They've been gone for at least 30 minutes, and I'm getting bored x10 of sitting around waiting for them.

With a groan, I hoist myself to my feet and stroll along the familiar path to the bathroom. I find Massie, Kristen, and Claire in a huddle outside the door. "What's up?"

"Dylan." Massie struggles to get the word out.

"What about Dylan?" I ask. My chocolate-brown eyes widen.

"The ambulance is coming," Kristen says.

"What am I missing?" I demand.

"Dylan," Claire tells me in way of explanation. "She's... look." She opens the door and points. I follow her finger. Dylan. Our favorite redheaded firecracker, on the floor, seemingly dead.

* * *

*KRISTEN'S POV*

This can't be happening. My mom's made me take thousands of CPR and First Aid classes, but I doubt they're going to help here. And even if they would, I really don't want to get my hand-knit Juicy Couture top dirty. No offense.

My thoughts are interrupted by the roaring of a siren outside. I run with the others to the front door and fling it open. Massie waves her arms dramatically, and two paramedics head toward us. Most men will at least take a second to run their eyes down Massie Block and Alicia Rivera, examining their chests, curves, and beauty, but these ones don't even seem to care. "What's the emergency?" they demand.

Claire tells them, accepting comments from Alicia here and there.

They barge past us and follow Alicia toward the bathroom. She opens the door as the EMTs snap on plastic gloves. They scoop Dylan onto a gurney and practically run back outside to load her into the vehicle. "Thank you," they say in sync with gruff nods as they climb in.

"Wait!" Massie exclaims. "Can we ride with her?"

"Yeah," I echo. "Imagine how scared she'll be if, uh, _when_ she wakes up and she finds herself in a strange place with equally strange people and-" I don't even realize I'm blabbing until one man cuts me off.

"Sure you can," he agrees. "But two of you only."

I look around gingerly.

"Please, mister," Massie begs. "We're her best friends."

He only hesitates for a second before shaking his head. "Sorry. The other two can ride behind us and then apply to see her when we get to the hospital. But only two in the ambulance."

"I'll drive," Alicia offers, tossing the keys to her Lamborghini into the air, then catching them. "Come on, Kuh-laire."

"What if I want to go with her?" she protests.

"Uh-uh." Massie shakes her head. "First of all, I'm her Alpha. I'm going. And Kuh-laire, you don't know her as well as we do. You don't need to go."

"Fine," she mutters, and stalks awf after Alicia.

* * *

*CLAIRE'S POV*

First of all, I'm kind of pissed at Massie. Honestly, I knew Dylan better than any of them. We'd eat together, study together, chat for hours on the phone. I had my first sip of alcohol with her, for Gawd's sake. It was at her older sister Ryan's college graduation party. She'd come back to Westchester to celebrate her finishing four years at Yale, and Merri-Lee had gone all out. Dylan got to invite one friend, and she asked me, then convinced me to try some wine. So I did.

And now she was gone, possibly permanently. And to think I didn't recognize the signs. My own mother had gone through a period of bulimia once. I should know the symptoms when I see them, when I'm face-to-face with them almost every day. And yet I had no clue.

* * *

*DYLAN'S POV*

This isn't my room. My One Direction posters aren't here. Why aren't they here? And my room is painted sea-green. Why is this one white? Why is it so white? Everywhere I look, white. Where am I?

My eyes won't focus, and my head won't stop pounding. And now something is pricking my arm, and I'm falling, falling...

Sleep. I need to sleep. My eyelids are heavier than I used to be. I just need to sink down into these soft covers and sleep...

Why can't I sleep? What's wrong with me? Am I sick? Why can't I go to sleep? I need to sleep. Sleep is good. Why can't I fall asleep? Is there something wrong with me? Why can't I sleep? Why can't I...


	15. Chapter 15 - Everyone

"Is she okay?" Claire asked, the horror in her tone evident.

"For the last time, Kuh-laire, how are we supposed to know?" Alicia flipped her raven tresses. "They're doing what they can."

"Puh-lease stawp fighting," Massie begged, covering her face with her hands, forgetting all about the oil.

"She's right," Kristen agreed. "This is just-"

"Girls?" A soft, feminine voice questions. "You can come in now."

With a gulp, the girls stood up and edged their way down the hall into a room.

"Hey, guys," Dylan greeted them weakly, brushing lank red curls out of her face.

"Dylan!" Alicia exclaimed, rushing her friend and throwing her arms around her.

"Ehmagawd, I'm so glad you're okay!" Claire hugged the Gamma too.

"Yeah, thank Gawd." Alicia nodded. "The wedding's in three weeks! Right after we graduate!"

"That's what you care about?" Massie rounded on her, fire flashing in her eyes. "Your _wedding_?"

"Excuse me, it's a _wedding_. I have every right to care about it. In fact, I should be home right now taking care of my responsibilities, instead of waiting for hours for a glimpse of Dylan Marvil!" A second afterward, she seemed to remember the girl she was speaking of was no more than two feet away from her. "Ehmagawd," she breathed, sagging forward, her perfect dancer's posture forgotten. "I'm so sorry."

"It's alright." She smiled. "Look, Leesh, go. I'll be fine, and I'll be at the wedding too."

"Okay." Alicia fished her keys out of her purse, picked up her latte, and left, leaving the other four to an awkward silence.

"What's the deal, Dyl?" Kristen wanted to know, looking gravely serious.

"Rehab," she admitted. "For at least two months. You know, I really can't believe you guys didn't realize I was-"

"Don't even talk about it, Dylan."

She continued. "Especially you, Kuh-laire. Wasn't your Mom-"

"Just stawp, Dyl." A tear leaked down her cheek. "Puh-lease, just don't."

"Fine. How've you guys been?"

"You've only been in the hospital for a day," Kristen sobbed.

"This is pathetic." Massie stood up. "Dylan, we'll visit soon, we really will."

"Okay." She grinned weakly, but it was ahbvious she was wiped out and sad. "See you, I guess."

As the other slipped out, Claire patted her friend on the shoulder. "I'll come tomorrow," she whispered.


	16. Chapter 16 - Claire

**R&R!**

* * *

"Hey, Dylan." Claire brushed some hair out of the redhead's face. "I hope you know I cut class for you."

"Sweet little Kuh-laire? Cut class? Never. I don't believe you for a second."

"Call up Massie and ask her then." She smirked. "By the way, were you serious about the wedding?"

"I'm nawt sure." She shrugged, looking upset. "It really depends. I- do you think she'll hate me if I'm nawt there?"

Claire debated between the honest answer and the nice answer. "Probably. But I'm here for you, and so is the rest of the Pretty Commitee. Stawp worrying, Dyl. You can't stress about Alicia's wedding while you're in the hospital for bulimia. You just can't."

"You're right," she sighed. "I know you're right. But what can I do?"

"You can be happy for you," she suggested. "At least there's one advantage: you don't have to run around trying to impress everyone all the time." She laughed.

"Maybe." Dylan allowed herself a snicker. "Alright."

"You got this, princess. Just keep your head up."

She blanched.

"What? What's wrong? Should I call a doctor?"

"No, no, Kuh-laire, it's just... Puh-lease tell me someone kept the press away."

"We told the hospital."

"Good." She visibly relaxed. "Ehmagawd, they'd have a fucking field day. Youngest Daughter of Merri-Lee Marvil Hospitalized for Bulimia! Rehabilitation status pending. Could this possibly be a congenital problem?" She stawped mocking them. "You know, remember when Ryan had anorexia for a little while, and she talked Jaime into trying it too? And then Mom got involved? And, ugh, we don't need another Marvil scandal like that. This wasn't because of my family, or you. Nawt even Alicia."

"Who was it then?" Claire grew still. She even quit fidgeting with the loose thread on the faded pink hospital blanket.

"Mr. Myner," she mumbled.

"What?! The Health teacher? Ehmagawd, did he... I always knew he was a fucking perv."

"Ehmagawd, no!" she shouted, loud enough that a few nurses poked their heads inside, looking alarmed. She waved them away. "He... last year he made us line up outside the classroom and get on scales in front of everyone and I weighed more than every single person in that entire fucking class. Even the boys. Even Bill Timmons, who has all that fucking muscle. I weighed like 20 pounds more." Her head dropped shamefully and her fingers moved toward her throat almost involuntarily. Claire yanked them away and placed her friend's hand back on the bed.

"That's horrible teaching," she sympathized. "I was the skinniest in the entire class. Everyone made fun of me. It was terrible." She knew that was the wrong thing to say as she soon as she heard the words come out of her mouth.

Dylan's sob shattered her heart. "I _wish_ I was the skinniest person in the entire class. Why me, Kuh-laire, why me?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "I don't, and I hate watching you suffer this way. I remember when your smile lit up the world, and your laughter made our fears go away. And now, honestly, Dyl, I don't know who you've become, but I can't wait for you to go back to normal." She checked her watch. "Ehmagawd, I have to get back to school. My dad will kill me if I miss Math. If I flunk one more test, I won't graduate. Bye!" With a wild wave, she disappeared.

"Love you too, Kuh-laire." And, for the first time in ages, she smiled.

For real.


	17. Chapter 17

The girls were gathered in Alicia's room. They always sat in a circle, in the same positions: Massie leaning against the Latina's bed, Alicia and Dylan on either side of her, Claire next to Alicia, and Kristen next to Dylan. Except now Dylan's space was conspiciously unoccupied. There was only empty air where the redhead used to be. No one had the heart to close in, so Dylan's spot remained ahbviously vacant. It drew their eyes like a dead body.

A single tear dripped from Massie's eye, and she caught a sob the second before it escaped her throat. The Pretty Commitee already had enough to be upset about. No way was she going to let them know their leader was falling apart.

She clapped loudly. "I was thinking..." When she realized everyone was still glaring at the floor, she pitched her voice louder. "I was thinking we should have a sleepover at the hospital this Friday so we can include Dylan."

"Great idea." Kristen nodded.

"Uh, guys, I hate to shoot this down, but we have a wedding to plan," Alicia reminded them bitchily.

"Pull your fucking head out of your ass," Claire snapped. "Dylan is much more important than you right now."

Everyone was struck silent; none of them had ever heard the blonde curse before. Alicia, however, still had her voice.

"Excuse me, Dylan is fine. She'll make it. I, on the other hand, have a major life event to prepare for."

Massie blinked. She couldn't decide whether Alicia had always been like this and she'd just overlooked it, or if her Beta had changed in the years since they'd separated. "Get...your...fucking...priorities...straight...bi tch." She glared, turning up the power in her eyes until they glowed with amber fire.

Kristen spoke up. "You can plan your stupid wedding yourself. We, awn the other hand, are going to support Dylan tomorrow night." She turned toward the others. "After school, we'll awl head home and grab our stuff, then go to the hospital."

"We should check first," Claire piped up. "Just to make sure they'll let us stay in her room overnight." Her voice had returned to her normal calm tone, but she sounded strangely detatched.

"Alright." Massie pulled out her phone. "I'll call." She talked for a few minutes, then nodded. "They want a little something." She rubbed her thumb and index finger together. "I'll bring $100."

Kristen nodded again. "Perfect." She checked the time on her watch. "I'd better get going. See you tomorrow at school. And Alicia, come if you have it in you to make the right decision."


	18. Chapter 18

Massie woke up uber-early the next morning, trying to find an outfit fabulous enough to make up for the embarassment she'd been forced to endure. But the truth was that no clothing could begin to fix the horrible situation.

She finally settled on black skinny jeans, strappy silver Gucci sandals with a rose, and a blush-pink draped top. Over it she slipped on a silver silk jacket by Jimmy Choo. She pulled her hair up into a ponytail.

Then she applied mascara, blush, lip gloss, and eyeliner. Nothing helped. Her heart still felt like it was going to crack in two.

And the worst part was that she missed her Alpha status even more than she missed Derrick Harrington.

She forced herself to climb in the limo with Isaac and collect the girls. When they pulled up at school, Massie took a deep breath and arranged them behind her. She put awn her best model-stare and tried to look invincible. Halfway to the front door, they were blocked by none other than Olivia Ryan.

She was holding Derrington's hand. Allie-Rose Singer and a girl named Melissa Hawthorne flanked her like bodyguards. Behind them stood Layne, Meena, and Heather, who had clearly gone through fantastic makeovers, as it took Massie a second to recognize them.

"Ehmagawd," she breathed. "Eh-ma-gawd."

"Hi, _Maysie_," Olivia greeted her, causing her posse to giggle.

"Hi, Airhead."

Olivia waved that off, scoffing. "So, _Maysie_, how are you today?" She knew every student standing on the front lawn could hear. And awl the students gathered awn the front lawn before school started.

"Fantastic, thanks. And you?"

"Doing well." She tilted her head up, and Derrick pecked her awn the lips. "Don't you think so, sweetie?"

He nodded and grinned, his smile only disappearing so he could tilt the corners of his mouth down at Massie.

XOXOX

"This is a nightmare," Massie muttered out of the side of her mouth to Kristen as Mr. Campbell droned awn and awn about measures of angles and centers of circles.

"I know, right? He's teaching this the wrong way. If he just said that O is the center, everyone would have solved this already-"

"Nawt the _lesson_! Olivia Ryan! I cannawt believe that bitch became Alpha overnight. She took away what I've been working for for years. Every second of my life, I've tried to be the perfect Alpha, and then she just flounces in and-"

"Do you have something to share, Massie? Have you figured out the measure of BAC?"

She shot a discreet glance at Kristen. 'Do something,' she mouthed. '_Now._'

"I have, Mr. Campbell," the blonde interjected. "The measure of angle BAC is 72 degrees, and the measure of angle BOC is 144 degrees."

"Thank you, Kristen," and he began to explain why to the dumbfounded class.

XOXOX

Massie marched into the cafe fully prepared for Olivia to have taken over Table 18. It surpised her when the Pretty Commitee's normal spot was completely empty. She led the group over.

The sign that said **NO LBR'S ALLOWED** that Alicia had custom-ordered awf the Internet was still perched in the middle of the table. They sat down and unpacked their healthy, home-made lunches. They were beginning to chow down when they realized everyone was staring at them intently, looking like they couldn't wait to laugh.

"Um, guys," Claire began hesitantly. "Look." She chin-pointed toward the sign. They awl looked closer.

"Ehmagawd." Alicia gulped.

Instead of **NO LBR'S ALLOWED**, it stated, **ONLY LBR'S ALLOWED**.

* * *

Alicia twisted her engagement ring around and around her finger, fighting the urge to slip it awn and awf, as she normally did when she was bored. But now the ring had to stay awn. Suddenly, the entire commitment seemed like too much. If she couldn't keep a simple ring awn her finger, how could she stay with one boy for the rest of her life?

She rubbed her forehead and leaned her chin awn her desk. Gently, she slipped Vera Wang's newest catalogue out of her Miu Miu hobo sack. Maybe looking at beautiful wedding dresses could reverse her confused feelings.

Since the Pretty Commitee's collective parents donated so much to OCD, the policy had been that the girls could do whatever they wanted during class, as long as they didn't flaunt it, and the teachers would print out the notes for them later. So she buried herself in the magazine.

"Alicia Rivera!"

"Yes?" She widened her eyes and raised her eyebrows, then swept her bangs out of her eyes.

"Put that away right now!"

She lowered her head. "What?"

"Put that away! I expect you to pay attention in class like everyone else!"

She caught Olivia Ryan's icy eye. The platinum-blonde bitch smirked and flapped a corner of Seventeen at Alicia.

She grinded her teeth and stared down at the ring awn her finger. That was the one thing she held over Olivia. A boy would never fall so in love with her that he would ask her to marry him.

* * *

During her free period, Kristen was supposed to be studying, but instead she was leafing through her Soccer Sisters pamphlet. Her responsibilites as captain included showing up this coming September earlier than the other girls for private training with Sherrie Hilton, the coach.

She desperately wished she could just leave now.

* * *

**CLAIREBEAR: It's OK. We'll b there 2night.  
LITTLEREDHEAD: Can't w8!  
CLAIREBEAR: Do u think u should change ur name back 2 BIGREDHEAD?  
LITTLEREDHEAD: Ehmagawd, y?! Do u think I'm fat?!  
CLAIREBEAR: Of course nawt! But, u know, w/ the whole bulimia thing... It kinda sends the wrong message.  
LITTLEREDHEAD: Whatevs. C u 2night.**

* * *

"Alright." Massie sighed. "Ready?"

"Uh-huh." Claire tightened the strings on her Coach bag as she trailed Massie and Kristen through the hospital parking lot. She hoped Dylan wasn't mad at her.

"Do you think Alicia will show up?" Kristen asked.

"Honestly? No." Massie secured her high, tight, perfectly circular bun with a gleaming silver chopstick, trying to achieve a responsible, over-21 look that she thought would convince the doctors to let them in more easily. She'd also applied a thick coat of eyeliner to her upper lids, creamy eyeshadow, dark pink lipstick, and rouge. Her outfit consisted of black sandals, extremely dark-wash True Religions, and a ruffled white Charlotte Russe top. Over her shoulder was a huge black Tommy Hilfiger design that resembled luggage more than a pocketbook. "Do I pass for an adult?"

"Sure. You can be my older sister," Kristen joked, although there wasn't a trace of humor in her voice. She looked grown-up, too. She had on black panty-hose, cream-colored Steve Madden heels, and a matching plaid skirt in Burberry's signature pattern. Tucked in was a white lace camisole, and over that was a coordinating cropped cardigan.

Claire felt embarassingly childish compared to both of them. Although her father, the extremely famous, extremely gay fashion designer Jay Lyons, had styled her, she felt stupid when she was standing next to her friends.

In bare feet, she was at least two-and-a-half inches shorter than Massie, the next smallest, but when they were in heels, forget it. She looked down at her $480 Dior flats and sighed.

"Kuh-laire, you look great."

Claire marveled at Massie's ability to always read her mind before thanking her. "Could you rate me?"

"Sure." Massie turned to Kristen. "Kris, you wanna announce?"

"Why nawt? Okay: Miss Kuh-laire Stacey Lyons is attired in a flowing sky-blue Agnes B. skirt that falls to her knees. Tucked in is a short-sleeved white lace shirt, and separating the two is a wide black braided belt that we know she got at Hollister. Gawd, Kuh-laire, you have enough money to buy out the Westchester. What is with you and Hollister? Anyway, awn her feet are black Dior flats, and black drop earrings from Cartier are in her ears. She has a simple Coach bag, and I can smell-" Kristen turned to Massie.

"Daisy by Marc Jacobs," the Alpha supplied. "9.6. You look _fine_. Now, does everyone remember their story?"

"I'm working an internship down in Tarrytown. I'm an admin assistant if anyone asks for details," Kristen said. "I'm doing it to complete my credits for senior year." She grimaced, and Claire knew why. Kristen would never need extra-credit. But the internship idea did make her sound responsible and professional.

"And I'm president of the student body at Octavian Country Day School." Nawt a lie. "I'm bringing Dylan get-well wishes and cards from the rest of the girls." Lie. "See, look." She unzipped her bag a crack. It held her overnight things, but layered on top were a few small bouqets of flowers and a stack of blank cards she'd gotten at Target. In her hand she held another vase. "And Kuh-laire?"

"I graduated two years early, and I'm student-teaching at Copper Beech Middle School, standing in for Ms. O'Brien while she's awf on maternity leave." She glanced at Kristen and giggled, both of them acknowledging that their roles should be reversed.

"Exactly." Massie hitched her bag up, adjusted the tulips in the vase, and smirked. "Let's go."

XOXOX

"Did you say you called ahead of time?" the tired-looking receptionist asked. Massie nodded. "Do you remember who you spoke to?"

"Carter. Carter Phillips."

"Oh. Okay. Carter!"

"Yes?" A stressed-out man wearing a long white lab coat and blue jeans turned the corner. "How can I help you, Bessie?"

"A Miss Massie Block says she called ahead of time for permission to stay overnight with a rehabilitation patient, and says you granted her that request. Yes?"

"Come with me, please, Ms. Block."

"_Miss_ Block, puh-lease."

"_Miss_ Block," he agreed. He led her into an empty room with no windows. "Did you bring it?"

"Uh-huh." She opened her wallet and pulled out the bill, folding it and placing it in his hand, then tucking his fingers around it. She smirked only slightly flirtatiously and leaned in to give him a kiss awn the cheek. "Thinks, Carter." Then she slid out of the room.

* * *

'Are they coming?' Dylan wondered. She had just decided to ask for permission to use the landline when a nurse poked her head into the tiny room Dylan thought of as her jail cell.

"Your friends are here, Dyl," she informed the Gamma. "Are you ready?"

She nodded and grinned. "Can't wait."

"Great. Tell me if you need any extra snacks or anything, o_kay_? You cannot be afraid to eat."

"I understand." She did.

XOXOX

"Dylan!" Massie ran forward and engulfed the redhead in a huge hug. "Ehmagawd, they had to search my entire bag. It took for_ever_."

"Yeah, they're careful with security. Did they make you go through that portal thing that scans you for bombs and guns and stuff?"

"_Yes_," Claire exclaimed. "I felt like I was in _Star Trek_!"

"I felt like they were majorly invading my privacy," muttered Massie.

"What did you bring to do?" Dylan questioned. "Ehmagawd, I've been _dying _to polish my nails, but they wouldn't let me. Look." She held her fingers out. Her right index finger was slightly chipped, and her left pinkie was fading. "Doesn't it look _terrible_?"

"Just horrific," Claire assured her, smiling. This was the Dylan she knew and loved.

"Don't worry." Kristen unzipped her bag and dumped the contents awn the bed. Hair, makeup, accesories, and bottle after bottle of nail polish spilled onto the covers.

"Fantastic." Dylan selected an emerald color. "Hey, Kuh-laire, will you do them?"

"Sure." She reached for the container.

"By the way, where's Leesh?" Dylan inquired conversationally.

Massie and Claire froze, the latter dripping polish all over the bedspread. Kristen gasped, but managed to speak. "She had to do something with the wedding. She told us to tell you that she was really sorry she couldn't be here."

"That's nawt what happened." Dylan's gaze was directed at Kristen's fingers, which were smoothing her hair back as fast as she could. That was a clear sign that she was not telling the truth. "I know you too well." The Gamma's voice was icy-cold, dripping with frost. "Spill, bitch."

Kristen blanched. "She thought her wedding was more important," she sighed. "But that's nawt true. You know Leesh. She gets... overly excited."

"She just doesn't care." Dylan shook her head. "Keep going, Kuh-laire," she told the blonde as though she was her own personal slave. "Why did you stawp?"

"No reason." The Epsilon continued painting.

Massie let her hair down and ran through it with a brush. "Should I kick her out?"

"She's stressed," Claire pointed out. "You don't get it. Neither do I. But a wedding is a huge deal. If Dylan had a life-threatening illness or something, I'm sure she'd come, but with Dylan in perfectly stable condition, the wedding is first awn her list of priorities. I'm sure Dylan is an extrememly close second, closer than she'll admit. But when you tried to make her choose, she felt attacked, and lashed out so she wouldn't feel bad about skipping out. That's Alicia. That's what she does."

Kristen pursed her lips. "You _are_ right. You've got good insight."

The blonde blushed. "Thanks."

"We're here for you, Dyl," Massie told her. "Through thick and thin, okay? Let's just nawt talk about Alicia."

But that was impossible. Because Alicia had just walked through the door.

XOXOX

Massie screamed and rounded on the Beta. "You scared the shit out of me!"

"Well sor_ry_. I was passing by to pick up the programs we ordered and I thought I'd stawp in. I can't stay long, though. The shop closes at eight."

"At least you came," Kristen offered feebly.

"That's something." Dylan nodded.

Massie's thin lips turned thinner.

"So what are you awl doing?" Alicia wanted to know.

"Nails," Claire and Dylan told her at the same time.

"Hair," Massie mumbled.

Kristen shrugged and help up her iPhone. "I was gonna take some pictures to post on the Pretty Commitee blawg."

"That? We haven't touched that thing in years. We've probably lost almost awl our followers."

"So?"

"Alright. Don't fight." Massie held up her arms. "I'm jumping in your shower for a minute, alright, Dyl?" She'd gone to close the bathroom door behind her when she heard Dylan's shouts to wait.

"They take videos in the shower."

"Ew!" Alicia shrieked. "_Why?_"

"So you don't use it as an opportunity to throw up," she explained matter-of-factly. "Here, Mass, wear one of my suits. They'll fit you now."

"Right," she agreed awkwardly, pretending she hadn't heard or understood the reference to Dylan's bulimia. She stripped naked, no problem, and pulled on the suit, which was still the tiniest bit big awn her. She didn't care. After tying the strings extra-tightly, she turned on the water, soaked her hair in the hot liquid for five minutes, then climbed out, wrapping a fluffy towel around her body. "Who gives the best blowouts? Leesh?"

"At your service." The Latina picked up a hairdryer awf Dylan's nightstand and pulled out a brush out of her own spacious bag. "Tilt your head back." As she carefully dried Massie's hair, she commented, "You'll do this for me? For the wedding, right?"

"Of course," Dylan assured her.

"I thought you'd want it done professionally." Claire wrinked her forehead.

"I'm trying to become more friend-oriented. Worst comes to worst, I'll have Jakkob do it. Oh, and I have something to ask you. It's kind of serious, actually." She turned down the hairdryer. "I'll need a maid of honor."

"Okay?"

"I mean, of _course_you're awl bridesmaids, but one of you has to be more special than the others."

Realization dawned awn their faces. Once again, Kristen spoke first. "Don't count awn me," she said. "I'm 99.9% sure I'll be here, but I don't want to let you down awn your big day."

"Alright. What about the rest of you?"

"We're nawt that close," Claire pointed out. "I don't need to be your maid of honor."

That left Massie and Dylan.

"I think I'll be out of the hospital, but I'm nawt completely positive. And I'm nawt sure I'll have enough time or energy to participate in rehearsals and things. Plus, you and Mass have been friends the longest. And she's your Alpha. I think you should go with her. She really is your BFF."

"Alright," Alicia agreed, bestowing a smile upon the group. "Thanks for being so big about this." She switched the dryer awf and tapped Massie awn the head. "All done, girlie."

"Thanks. Can you braid it, Kris?"

Kristen nodded and stepped over with a smile.

"Well, see ya, chicas! Gotta get to the shop!" She glanced at the clock awn Dylan's night-table. 7:58 flashed at her in glowing green neon. "Damn it! Oh, well. Guess I'll stay the night!" she chirped. She looked around uncertainly and blinked. "That's okay with you guys, right?"

Claire forced a grin. "That's great, Leesh. I'm glad."

"Me too. Wanna play Secret for a Secret?" Dylan proposed.

A sharp intake of breath was heard. This game was only brought up when someone had been holding something in for a long time, and had to get it out.

Massie gulped. Uh-oh. "I'll go first," she offered.

They sat in a circle, curled up in their sleeping bags. Dylan shared with Claire.

"Okay." She had to avoid Dylan for as long as possible. "Kuh-laire?" She bit her lip. "Secret For A Secret?"

Claire nodded assertively. "Sure. What?"

"Even though I'm the one who instigated the Pretty Commitee fights, I really missed you guys. I'm so glad Leesh's wedding reunited us." She smiled.

Claire swallowed. "That's nice, Mass. Uh...well...hmm...I don't really know what to say."

"You can do a good secret," Alicia said. Usually this was illegal, but under the circumstances, it seemed more than appropriate.

"Oh, alright. Well, I have something, then. Kind of a good news-bad news mix, though."

"Perfect." Dylan licked her lips.

"I got accepted to Keiser U. In Florida," she added. Good news. "I'm leaving. Early. Cuz I got in awn a scholarship, I have to get there in August. Right when Kristen goes." Bad news.

Dylan gasped and unexpectedly threw her arms around the blonde. "I'll miss you so much!" she cried, tears raw in her throat. "Oh, my little Kuh-laire!"

Claire shot her a look. "Later," she hissed, and winked in the direction of the bathroom. Dylan scratched a spot above her left eyebrow, their code for 'I got the message.' Claire looked around. "Hey, Leesh. Secret for A Secret?"

Alicia blurted hers out before anyone even registered what Claire had uttered.

"You know that time when we awl hated each other?" She didn't wait for the others to react. "No one here knows why I was called Slutlicia, do you?" They shook their heads. "It was cuz I slept with Josh."

"We were sophomores. Whatevs." Massie shrugged.

"I'm nawt done." The heaviness in her voice made their shoulders sag. They let out long breaths. "I haven't told you what they found out."

"Ehmagawd, when did you have sex with him?" Kristen breathed.

Alicia sighed. "Before middle-school graduation."

"Ehmagawd! How did they find out and we didn't know?!" Massie shrieked.

"I was going to tell you awn graduation day, like right after it happened. Except Kristen won that award, and then we went to Slice of Heaven with...with the boys, and we were all celebrating, and I didn't want to add bad news."

"It wouldn't have been bad news," Dylan opposed. "Nawt if you didn't regret it."

"Well, anyway, Heather, you know, _Layme's_ friend, was going through old issues of the _Bulletin_, remember, our old school newspaper, and she found this...picture. At graduation. Of...of Josh and me."

"Okay? Lots of kids took pictures with their boyfriends and girlfriends."

Kristen reached out a hand to steady the brunette who had spoken. "There's more, Mass," she said softly.

"Yup." Alicia pulled the clipping out of her wallet, where it had been folded into eighths. A headline screamed, 'The 2013 Graduating Class of Briarwood Octavian High Graduates Octavian Country Day School in 2009!' There was a huge picture, prominently featuring the Pretty Commitee. They had their arms draped around each other's shoulders and were giving the photographer huge, sincere-looking smiles. They'd awl been rather photogenic. The boys were there two, standing behind them. Derrick's hand rested awn Massie's shoulder, his fingers entwined in her hair. Dylan, next to her stood alone. Then there was Claire, who was leaning on Cam, who stood to the right and a little in back of her. Next was Alicia. Josh's hand was over her ample chest. On the end was Kristen, who was just barely touching fingers with Kemp.

"Look at me!" Kristen giggled. "Ehmagawd, I wouldn't even hold hands with Kemp; I was so scared my mom would find out."

"Look at _me_." Dylan pointed. "I'm the only one without a boyfriend."

"If it makes you feel better, Christopher Plovert is also without a girlfriend," Claire said seriously, and made kissy noises.

"Eww!" the girls screamed.

"No. Look at _me_." Alicia exhaled loudly, and gestured to Josh's hand, which was, now that they looked more closely, quite clearly down her shirt.

"Ehmagawd, he is _such_ a man-whore!"

"Are you kidding? _I'm_ the whore. But when I saw the picture, I figured it would be okay. The issue would be printed, no one reads the thing, we'd all leave school, I'd never think about it ah-gain. Except when Heather went through looking for dirt, she found this and spread it. It was never really a fact that I'd slept with Josh, only a rumor, except it was true, and the only person that knew was Olivia Ryan."

Kristen, who could put two and two together the fastest, blinked. "Ehmagawd." They were saying a lot of that.

Massie was the second to understand. "You told Olivia Ryan over us?!"

"She was _right there_, Mass," Alicia explained lamely. "We did it in the abandoned kiln room. The one with the matress?"

"Ehmagawd! Mr. Knapp probably fucks that English teacher in there! Awn that!" Claire whisper-screeched.

"Mrs. Weston? She's married!"

"No! Miss Leaker!"

"Ehmagawd!"

"Ehmagawd!" Alicia cringed and made a disgusted face. "Mr. Knapp's and Miss Leaker's..._juices_...were awn that?!"

"Eww!" A globule of drool dripped down her Claire's chin. She wiped it away with a tissue. "Yuck!"

"So, anyway, I'd asked Olivia to wait for me at my locker, cuz you guys had to get home and I had a dentist appointment. Right? Cuz in eighth, we were still friends." She rolled her eyes at the paper. "Ahbviously. So she was there, and she goes, 'Um, Leesh, your fly is undone. Please tell me you didn't walk around like that all day.' And I did it up. And then she says, 'And by the way, your shirt's buttoned all weird. Like, omigod, you weren't with that Joshua kid, were you?' And I was awl, 'Ew, don't be silly,' and she was awl, 'No, I'm totally right!' So then I had to tell her."

"Why didn't you just say you made out or something?" Massie questioned. "I mean, what is this? You have to tell her every single thing that goes awn in your life?"

"Ehmagawd, Mass, it was so flipping ahbvious," she groaned. "She would have guessed it by the time we walked to the lobby. And who unzips their fly while kissing?"

"You could have gotten to third base instead of home," Claire pointed out.

"Lame." Alicia scoff-coughed and took a deep breath. It was clear everyone had forgotten about the game, and about Claire's next secret, because next she said, "Let's do that old thing where we pretend we're going awn the Red Carpet at the Academy Awards."

"Alright." Dylan looked so close to agreeing, but then something in her just dropped. "No, wait, guys, I have to tell you something."

Kristen gasped and began running her hands through her boob-length mane.

"Um, I, um, well, um..."

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED...SHOUTOUT IN MY OTHER STORIES, NO MATCH FOR US AND CLIQUE: SIXTH GRADE SUMMER, IF YOU CAN GUESS DYLAN'S SECRET! :O**


	19. Chapter 19 - Dylan

**DYLAN**

Gawd, she missed them. She hadn't realized that they'd awl reverted back to strict Pretty Commitee lingo, but they had. She also hadn't realized they awl had so many unshared secrets. Including hers.

"Well...there's a reason I turned bulimic. And it wasn't cuz of Mr. Myner, like I told Kuh-laire. I mean, I guess it was partially him, but there was much more. I, well, there was a reason I never wanted a boyfriend. And I guess there was kind of an undercurrent, which was why no boy ever wanted me. Nawt cuz I was fat, but cuz I'm lesbian." She didn't give them the chance to comprehend the statement. "And there's a girl. Named Ashlee Delemonico. I think we're really in love. And I decided to lose weight for her."

Kristen gulped. "That's...great, Dyl." She smiled. "I mean, ahbviously nawt the bulimia part, but that you've found love: really great!"

"The only reason I went with bulimia is cuz nothing else worked! No diet, no exercise program, nothing! So I just gave up. This was so much easier. Until now."

"Bulimia is never easy." Claire shook her head and looked around meaningfully at the group. "Listen, I don't know who knows this, but my mother was bulimic, and that's why she's always getting sick now and stuff. That's why she goes to the hospital for routine check-ups. Nawt cuz of that skin cancer she had, but cuz of the bulimia. She almost had a heart attack once. It's dangerous, it really is. Never, ever do this ah-gain, Dyl. You're lucky that we found this out now, and that nothing worse happened. Cuz it gets too fatal, too deadly, too soon. And then we might never see our ah-mazing Dylan Marvil ah-gain. So puh-lease, puh-lease, never ah-gain." She stared everyone in the eye ah-gain. Her gaze seemed to linger for an extra moment awn Alicia, who spoke.

"Maybe I'm missing something here, but is no one else a little shocked about this lesbian thing?"

"Nawt really." Massie shook a strand of hair out of her amber eye and tucked it behind her ear, which she'd never do in public. "Everything she said is true: she never wanted or had a boyfriend, and no offense, but no boy ever really wanted her, except for that quick thing with Derrick before I had him."

Kristen tightened her lips and nodded. "I guess. You told us cuz you want to process with us, am I right?"

Dylan nodded gratefully as her eyes filled with tears. There were still plenty of people against gays and lesbians. Alicia's father, for one, probably both of Kristen's parents, and yet here they were, awl supporting her. No one was making a big deal out of it, except for Alicia, but that was trademark behavior for her.

"Can we spread it? As gossip?" We all know who asked _that_.

"Nawt right _now_!" Massie reprimanded. "We're, like, the lowest of the low on the social ladder right now, thanks to Ms. Duhlivia Airhead."

Dylan balked. The Alpha's reason had nothing to do with her personal privacy and trust, but instead awl to do with their status. She scowled. "Has anyone considered _my_ reasons why this shouldn't spread?" Her bright green eyes flashed.

Kristen put an arm around the redhead. "'Lax, Dyl Pickle. It'll be okay. Promise. Trust us." She indicated herself and Claire with a wink.

Dylan wasn't sure. She knew she could put faith in Claire, the nicest, most down-to-earth girl here. It didn't matter that her father earned the family a billion dollars a year. She could always be counted awn.

Massie was filled with raw power. She had enough to create a hurricane and flip the whole school over if she chose. Alicia worked sneakily and subtlely. She was manipulative, cunning, and everything perfect for a Beta. Dylan got mad fast, and used awl her anger at once by lashing out. She didn't know how to keep it in or save it for later like those two. Claire had a little power, but she was more like Crabbe or Goyle, bowing down to Malfoy. She used it the way she was told, and only stood up for herself once in a while. But when she did, she could knock you down. But Kristen...

Kristen was powerful and charming and snappy and quiet awl at once. She could rule if she had to, and with a bat of her eyes and a toss of her hair and a quick show of her long, athletic legs, she could win you over in a heartbeat. She knew how to shoot an insult and leave, and she never had to even worry about comebacks, like Massie did, because the students were literally scared of her. No one wanted to bother Kristen. But she could play awn your side too. She could turn into the quiet but eager best friend, but she'd always switch back. Kristen Gregory lived for herself and no one else. Don't cross her. That was what Dylan had learned when the Pretty Commitee had split.

"I know," was what she whispered.

"So let's hear about Ashlee Delemonico," prompted Claire. "You never told us about her." She fluttered her eyelashes suggestively and grinned.

Dylan swatted her. "What do you want to know?"

They had a long list of questions. They started simply, but awl at once.

Dylan threw her hands up. "Hold awn. I can't hear myself think." (She finally understood that expression.) "Once at a time. Let's start with Massie, then go Alicia, Kristen, Kuh-laire, k?"

They nodded.

"Okay, Mass," Dylan started.

"What does she look like?"

"Wanna see a picture?"

"Sure."

Dylan produced her iPhone from a drawer and scrolled through her photos. "Here's a good one."

It portrayed a girl with very tan skin, cinammon-colored, sparkly eyes, high cheekbones dusted with blush and glitter, plump, pink, glossy lips, and long, lithe legs. Her hair was billowy and dark, falling to a little above her waist. A white headband held it back. She was wearing distressed cutoffs, white Havianas, and a flimsy white v-neck tissue tee. A clump of diamond tennis bracelets weighed down her thin, bony wrist, and a matching locket hung from her neck.

"There's a picture of me in there," Dylan explained abashedly.

"Cute!" Alicia crowed.

"We'd just gone to the spa," she added. "Look, see her fingernails." She zoomed in.

Ashlee's nails were covered in navy blue polish with white crackle.

"Gawd, she must _love_ white," Massie commented.

"She doesn't love _white_," Dylan contradicted. "She loves _diamonds_. You know, girl's best friend and awl that. And since diamonds are white..."

"Same thing," dismissed Massie.

"Next question."

"What's she like? You know, personality-wise?" Alicia inquired.

"Um, she's kinda shy when you first get to know her, but becomes totally fun and crazy fast. A little like Kuh-laire. Next."

"Are you, like, really in love?"

"I don't know," Dylan replied thoughtfully. "I mean, I did this for her, though."

"Has she come to visit you?" Claire leaned in.

"A few times." Dylan smiled at the memory. "You guys would love her so much. In fact- shit!"

"What?"

"I told her she could come tonight. I didn't know you guys were gonna sleep here until Kuh-laire called today and she's probably coming right," a knock sounded at the door, "now." She got up. "Hey, Ash!"

"What's up?" Her voice rang clearly from the threshold. "Who's there?"

"A few of my friends," Dylan responded easily. "Loosen up. They already know."

"Fine." Ashlee came into view. She was wearing a floral-print Alice&Olivia bustier top with a super-short denim mini and pale pink flats.

Massie bustled over to her and stuck out a hand. "Hi, I'm Massie Block."

"Alicia Rivera." "Kristen Gregory." "Claire Lyons." The others chimed in, smiling, trying their best to make her feel welcome.

Dylan, awn the other hand, watched the girls' expressions: Alicia's slightly bored, Kristen's genuinely interested, Claire's kind and open. But Massie's was hungry. Nawt hungry for food. Hungry for that girl.

Dylan knew the Alpha well enough to figure it out.

Massie wanted Ashlee for the Pretty Commitee.


End file.
